In Memory
by Pandanonymous
Summary: Pain has a way of finding its way into my life. Suffering has left me hollow and not even misery wants me as company. I've been reduced to the shell that was once me. All I have to say to you is that it will all be over soon.


**Hey guys. This is something that I came up with after have a couple drinks with my mates. Hope you enjoy. :)**

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The tombstone was wet with the morning dew. Water had accumulated across the top of the smooth polished granite. Droplets were running down the face of the rock slab, making it's way between the chiseled lettering.

The cold air tickled the nape of my neck as a sudden gust of wind blew my hair across my face, covering my vision. My mess of tangled greasy hair tickled my cheeks as the smell of sweat hit my nostrils. The morning dew was beginning to soak through my brown work boots. I wiggled my toes and felt the dampness of my socks that were once dry. The feeling of water moving between my toes distracted me for a brief moment.

It was quiet; I was the only one here today. I looked around to see a field of green and tombstones arranged in a perfect grid. All of them were the same size, same shape, same… everything. Many of them had photos in front of the slabs. A way for the grieving to remind themselves of their loved ones faces. Pots of wilting flowers were placed next to plates of fruits. Apples, oranges, the occasional bread; much of which had been eaten by the animals living in the area.

It's supposed to be the final day of the Vytal Festival. The quiet hum of Elysian battleships could be heard as they flew overhead. How even in times of festivities, the world is still weary of each other. The sounds of the announcer over the megaphone could be heard. Today's attractions would include a ferris wheel and a flight over Vale, courtesy of Atlus. She would always look out the window while we were flying and point out all the places she could see. If she were alive, she'd probably drag me off to a cotton candy station and hold my hand was we wandered around. If only I could hold her warm, firm hand and laugh at her witty remarks once more.

I promised I would be strong after she left, but every breath brings me back to that warehouse. I close my eyes and I can still see the amber glow of fire. The warmth of the flame reminded me of a campfire, but the feelings within me were anything but pleasant. The smell of burning gasoline forever stains the brown leather jacket I can't bear to wash, but can't bear the stench. She bought me this jacket for my birthday; it still has her scent underneath the fumes the blanket the fabric. I studder underneath my overcoat as the tears I tried so desperately to hold back come flooding out. She would probably laugh at me if she saw the sorry state I was in.

After several minutes of silence with the only break in tranquility being the murder of crows that flew overhead, I spoke.

"Hey."

I opened my mouth to say more, but whatever I tried to say came out as a choked slur that was barely audible. I closed my eyes and I saw her again. Her mangled body under a pile of twisted ruble. Her lower torso was covered by the collapsed roof and her left forearm pinned by fallen concrete twice her size. She struggled to get free but all her strength had been drained from the fight that broke out prior. I remember her screaming at us to run, to flee with our lives. I stood there, wanting to run to free her, but too scared to move. I felt a hand violently pull my right arm. Ren was dragging me away as the transport ship arrived. I tried to break free from his firm grip, but I couldn't. Deep down, I was scared for my life. I turned back to see a figure standing above her body. It held a gun to her temple. A loud explosion rang through my head as her head violently snapped backwards. The lifeless look in her eyes stared right at me as her pale face was slowly being painted crimson by the new wound that was left in her head..

I opened my eyes abruptly. The sunlight caught my eyes, and in my moment of blindness, I saw her again, smiling. She had flowers in her hair that was done up in a loose bun, with a couple loose strands of hair falling to her shoulder. She was wearing a plain white dress that ended at her knees. Her porcelain skin gave off a slight glow as she motioned for me to come. I reached out and the closer my hand got, the fainter she became. I tried to give chase but my feet gave out under me. My body hit the damp grass and my vision landed on the tombstone in front of me.

I lay there for a moment, not wanting to get up. The cold blades of grass were leaving their imprint on my overcoat. I didn't care, though. I wished for the earth to swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear from my troubles, to cease to exist. If only life was that easy.

After she left, I became angry. Angry at my team. If they hadn't been bickering about what to eat for dinner when we got home, maybe we would have noticed the masked men surrounding us. If they hadn't wasted time trying to contact Ozpin for emergence backup, maybe we could have charged forward and created an opening. There was so much I was angry at that I became isolated. They tried to talk to me afterwards, but I couldn't look at them without seeing her smiling. That only made me hate them more. I couldn't stand seeing them, so I often slept in the training grounds, where I could be alone. After a while, they stopped trying to comfort me. Ozpin eventually disbanded the team. He told me to take a break from being a huntsman and to try to get better. I didn't argue. Every time I passed by a class, I would remember the classes we shared. The laughter we made once before, now just a distant echo in the void of my mind.

While packing, I found an old photo album she forgot in my room. She told me she would pick it up after the mission. I flipped the old leather album open and the first photo I saw was us sitting under a cherry blossom tree. We were smiling. She was wearing a black dress I bought her for her birthday. She hated the colour black. She said it conflicted too much with her bright hair and that it would take major convincing for her to wear it. She looked uncomfortable at first, but since it was just the two of us, she didn't mind all that much. We'd spent the day just staring into the blue cloudless sky, pointing out funny looking clouds that reminded us of the Grimm. I held her close and we spent the evening admiring the constellations.

My vision blurred as liquid began to accumulate on the plastic covering of the photo. This was the first time I cried about her passing. I told myself that I would move on and continue living, for her.

I tried living a normal life. I got a job at a dust store as a cashier. Weiss was kind enough to get me a position at her family's store. It was manageable at first, I even got a new dog. I named her Athena, in remembrance of her brave attitude and unmatchable tactical wit. I would walk her up and down the streets of Vale, reminiscing about the past. I would walk by the coffee shop that we would stop by and chat about things that fancied her. I remember one time we got into an argument over which book was better. It ended with us going to Tukson's Book Trade and buying the books to prove each other wrong. I binge read the book the first night and when we met up in class the next morning, I found out that she had done the same and that we had both fallen in love with the novels we read.

Life was going great, until one day, I got a call from Ren. I dropped my phone, frozen in rage and sorrow as he finished his sentence and hung up. The court was going to pronounce Roman innocent of all charges pressed. The only thing that would stick is an unauthorized license found in his car. He would be released this morning, free to walk the streets as an innocent man. I left work early that day, on account of suddenly falling ill.

I began to drink heavily as a way of forgetting. I would drink and drink until I would blackout, only to find myself in an alleyway between some buildings in downtown Vale, robbed of my wallet. Every time I awoke, it would be around noon and I would reek of bourbon and liquor. I tried to quit drinking, but would just get angry and irritated by everything. I yelled at anyone that came into the store. I almost got into a fight with a customer once before the manager intervened. He let me go two days later. He told me to get help, and that this was not the life she would have wanted me to live. I hated him for saying those words, but couldn't bring myself to make any comments. What he said hurt me more because I knew it was true.

I continued drinking and eventually drank all my money away. I was evicted from my home and lost everything: my friends, my job, my future with her. I would sit in the alley at night and lie on the cold cement, thinking. Why did you leave me? Why couldn't you take me with you? I got angry at her for abandoning me. I was angry that she left me and couldn't take me with her. I tried to believe in her imaginary wishes, but that only made me think of her more, further deepening the gap she left in my heart.

I opened my eyes once again. The sun had been shining on my back, mimicking the feeling of her lying next to me when I work up. The warm fuzzy feeling was interrupted by the cold metal I felt along my stomach. I took a deep breath and stood up. Remembering what Nora told me, I composed myself.

"He's going to be at the Academy this morning to give a speech to the students at Beacon."

Those words still rang clearly in my foggy head. It was the first time one of my friends contacted me after my breakdown. I suppose I couldn't call them friends anymore, after all the grief I had caused them.

I looked down at my watch: quarter until noon; he would be arriving at the academy soon. I shifted my eyes back to the tombstone in front of me.

"Sorry, I couldn't visit you as often as I liked. I've been … thinking. I just wanted to say that this is probably going to be the last time I can freely see you. I just wanted to tell you … that everything is going to be all right, and that we will see each other again soon…. I love you."

I swallowed hard; my mouth had gone dry and my eyes were starting to get watery. I closed my eyes, nodded and turned around. I didn't say goodbye, because I knew we would meet soon enough.

As I was walking towards the exit, a man with a cane was standing by a tree, off to the side. He was wearing a black overcoat and sunglasses that covered his eyes. His gray hair was peeking out from underneath his black dome hat. I continued walking, passing him without a glance. He didn't turn to look at me. He just continued to stare at the sky, deep in thought. Just as I was almost out of earshot, he said something that made me stop.

"You don't have to do this."

I didn't turn around, but I knew that he was walking towards me from the sound of compressed grass growing louder. He was about ten feet away when he spoke up again.

"I know you have a gun underneath your coat. It's been five years since the incident. You don't have to do this to yourself." His voice was smooth, calm, the same as I had always remembered. I guess even after three years, people don't change all that much.

"I've made up my mind. This is how it's going to end."

The man sighed and and started to walk away; I stayed standing. I knew he would call out for me one more time, one last attempt to make me change my mind. What he said next was completely different.

"We all knew you loved her Jaune. I won't stop you because this is the life you've chosen to live. All I wanted to say was that you were an excellent huntsman and that it was an honour teaching you."

I spun around and he was gone. The only sight was sunlight illuminating the tombstone. A warm breeze brushed by my face and for the first time, I felt … happy. I looked up at the sky and it was brilliant and cloudless, like on that day the photo was taken.

I closed my eyes and smiled.

"Yeah, thanks."

I walked out of the cemetery, leaving behind a single wilting chrysanthemum and the photo album she never came to collect. As I got into my car that I rented with all the lien I could scrape together, I pulled out my scroll.

The sides were beginning to discolour and the weight felt foreign in my hand. This was going to be the first time I powered up my scroll in the past five years. It took its sweet time to load as the software was outdated. Once it finished the boot-up, I saw that I had many unread messages. A lot of them were from classmates and friends sending me their condolences. I was about log off when one message caught my eye.

"I hope we can stop by Tukson's Book Trade later today. I heard they got a new shipment of books. We'll meet on the roof, like always."

I powered down my scroll and started the beat up car. It took a while for the engine to start, but it eventually did. I put the machine into drive and as I drove off, I smiled and whispered a quiet response.

"Yeah, let's go there sometime Pyrrha."


End file.
